The 21 day rule and little brother's keeper

Deliver me, deliver me, deliver me!! If it was only that easy. To get deliverance from the years of bondage to the original and only Doc, I had to break a month up into 72 hour fasts 4x over 16 days. That was painful. Not sure I can do it again

I need deliverance out of this mess. Jealousy is ugly as ugly can be. I am jealous of a friendship you and I never had. We do not really know each other. Not really. And we were never ever friends!! We are people that know each other. 

I don't belong in this situation. And that upsets me. What is wrong w me. I want something I cannot have. This is not right and I need to figure out how to get out of this. Lord, deliver me. I will be okay if I can just get to 21 days and then deliverance will come whether or not I am ready.

You broke my heart on New Years Eve 1995 or 6. That is not how I saw things happening. And then you about destroyed my heart while you were destroying yourself. I have to get out of this mess. Feelings suck!!

Pro-life vs. Pro-death

The vulgarity and inhumanity of what happened to baby Alfie makes me sad, sick and angry. Remember baby Charlie? It will not stop here and it will not end well.  I am absolutely 100% pro-life and pro-adoption. Don't like it?  Stop reading. We live in a culture of death, where right to life is hate speech.  We kill our young and our many blessings like it means nothing. Meh... tomorrow we will kill more and many will not bat an eye.  Its outrageous. Your rights are no more or less important than the right of the unborn. We destroy our children or warp them so badly that we have nothing left but dysfunctional adults.  We have no idea the blessings that we flush like refuse.

What Gigger said

So the great Gigger said I had to keep track of my dreams.  That it would help me in the long run and show me what I cannot see. Umm... maybe. I am skeptical and yet here I am, pouring my heart out, via my phone even, and talking to my blog again. I am slightly better than I was when I started this even though I am in worse weight shape. But its all about healing self and I want to heal self so very much.

The missing little brother

Dearest Lil B,

We passed the 21 day mark without speaking.  Which invokes my 1st rule not that it matters. Told me what i needed to know, even though I would like to understand what I did to cause this disruption.  I have no idea what I did/said wrong. One moment  we were speaking and the next 'poof'. I presume a woman entered the mix, which is totally okay, we are just people that knew each other once upon a time, well over a lifetime ago when we were just children after all. I would have liked a goodbye but I guess I didnt really need one. And apparently was not getting one. You are definitely a different person than I remember.

That makes me tragically sad. I would never ever have guessed this is how life would go for you.  I shed tears for that even though i know I cannot change it no matter what I do.

My only concern is that you stay clean and sober and out of more trouble.  I told you I only do one stint with someone but that's not 100% true. If there was no one else, I would do something. Just stay free and we won't ever have to cross paths again.

Much love!!

Blogging out loud - Screaming 14 year old wants OUTTA here...

Writing things down is a source of therapy for me.  Normally, I write things down and hide the things I feel too ashamed to say and stick it in a drawer in one of a myriad of journals I keep.  I'd love to have one cohesive thought in one journal but alas... I do not.  Same way I do a book, I just pick something up and put a thought in it.  I read books 3 or 4 at a time.  My 'journals' are all over the place along with a collection of books. 

Writing is another source of hiding for me.  I can put the things I am too afraid and ashamed to say in a journal that no one will ever see and still feel the blighting anonymity of nobody ever really knowing what is going on.  Here is a secret.... If I ever allowed anyone to see my artwork, you might be surprised to know that some of the backgrounds cover things I wish to say out loud and but cannot reveal because they hurt. 

Writing is like hiding from the shame that we sometimes feel when looking in a mirror.  It has all the harsh edges of reality.  We can always say really ugly things in our writing.  There are things I won't even admit to in my journal for fear that someone would see it and judge the 'real' person writing.  What better way to lance a wound then to put it on a blog.

I can be real and open all at the same time.  You are privy to my story but only the parts I wish to share.  Everything else is safely tucked away in a lifeless journal, or locked away in my heart waiting for the day the wound heals over enough that I can say it out loud.

I probably should have started my blog with this, because it explains a lot.  It has taken the last two years for the torture to go away and for me to say it out loud.  What I have learned, I did not pick up through therapy.  If therapy works for you, keep going.  If I were going to have therapy, it would have started when I was 14 and my life changed forever.  Because that is when I really learned that hiding in plain sight behind a layer of fat was far safer and numbing for me. 

I want you to know, there is something very healing about being able to verbalize the shameful secrets we keep from ourselves and others.  Shame is always about control.  When you verbalize it and stop living secretive and afraid, it CANNOT control you.  It can't!  I will say it again... it CANNOT control who you are any longer.   Say it out loud and you will take the power away from the person, people or situation that is trying to make you feel ashamed. 

More to follow...

Sunday... fun day!! The foodlog continues...

I am being ever more diligent of my food logs.  Since the day I sprung my SI joint, I have quite positively undone all my weight loss wins.

 Breakfast: 320 cals

• Protein Shot
• Peanut Butter Clif bar

Lunch: 770 cals

• 1/1 Crunchy chicken taco/soft chicken taco from Fuzzy's
• 1 cup Cilantro Lime rice from Fuzzy's
• 1 serving of cheesecake

Supper: 245 cals

• 2 waffles
• 1 tsp. ICBINB

"An Amazon lives here" or "Don't call me stout, solid or big..."

I have never been called dainty, tiny or petite a day in my life.  My loving  family will tell you I was a stout child or a big girl.  While I despise big as an adjective, stout is certainly not much better and don't grab my limbs and exclaim that I am just solidly built.  No one really wants to hear that, EVER!!  While I will never call you on your rudeness for saying or doing that, you will likely say things about me when I politely smile, say nothing, and walk away from you.  You don't get to fat shame me in love.  I know what I both look like and how much I weigh.  I don't need you to remind me.  That is what I have mirrors and a scale for.  :)

I was a month overdue in 197x and weighed in at a robust 9.7lbs.  I was not tiny.  When you're parental unit (I still love you Dad) exclaims to the wife and the nurses that, "she beat the boy" you live in family lore as some monstrosity of "ginormousness."  My nephew and niece beat me by at least a pound each and yet my birth is the shocking one even though we are not far apart in age.  *shrug* why pick a fight, right? I will never be dainty or tiny.

I didn't start tiny, and I have not magically gone all dainty and petite in the intervening years.  If anything I feel like one of Sheldon's (BBT) 'beefy gals' which is code for Amazon.  I always wanted to be dainty and petite.  It is much preferable to big and Amazon like in the adjective department. 

Even at my normal weight, I am just heavier than most women I guess.  Meaning at even about 145lbs, I will still be the person you don't want to cart around for more than a few steps.  That said, I can probably knock a person out with a right cross if I could connect because my size brings more strength.  Strong vs. dainty and petite.  Strength wins in this case though I'd still like to be a bit daintier. 

At 5'9+ I tower over many women, and a lot of men are my height.  This state just does not grow them tall like the Midwest.  No offense Texas, I still love you.  When I wear heals, I am 6ft+.  I always joke a bit that if I tripped and fell, I would likely crush the dainty folk walking near me.  There are only a couple people that I work with that I do not dwarf by multiple inches even without heals.  With heals, I try not to walk next to the shorter folk.  It makes that Amazonian feeling worse and I don't want to squish someone if I took a wrong step.

Sometimes, I wonder if I always felt so ginormous next to people when I was my normal weight or if I always felt so huge because everyone has told me that I was 'big' and stout.